


Baby Stuff

by Million_Moments



Series: Harry verse [6]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family, Ficlet, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babies just come with so much stuff. A Harry verse fic set just after “Baby 2” but before “Family Tree”. Another ‘no plot really’ story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I would write another story out of sequence just to keep you lot on your toes.

Despite his wife assuring him it was all meant in good humour, Richard continued to frown at the baby grow he had been given by Fidel and Juliet as a present for Alexandra’s birth. Actually they had supplied an entire stack of them – mostly in shades of pink with pretty embroidered flowers that had Camille gushing and cooing over them. During her first pregnancy with Harry she had been adamant that the pair of them would not be forcing any gender stereotypes on their child, and as a consequence Harry had worn a lot of white and yellow. That vow seemed to have gone out the window with the arrival of their little girl, because in the week since her birth she had worn nothing but pink.

One particular baby grow in that stack had stuck out though – it was clearly intended for his benefit. “It was _one time_ ,” he continued to grumble, glaring at the offending item.

“And it was absolutely hilarious!” Camille reminded him.

“I was very nervous. He was just _so_ small and I was _so_ sure I would break him, I was concentrating on not doing so!” Richard failed to see why it was so funny – surely the very existence of this comedy baby grow was evidence that other Father’s had suffered similar issues. It should inspire sympathy, not mocking. “I know this time around babies aren’t as breakable as you think they are!”

Camille took the baby grow from him, “Oh come on, it’s cute!” She walked across the room held it up against their currently sleeping daughter. The white vest in question was labelled “YOU CAN DO THIS DAD” in the centre. Further labelling and arrows indicated clearly which holes should be utilised for arms and which for legs. Richard assumed this was intended as reference to the first time he had attempted to change Harry’s outfit. It has proved slightly more challenging that he expected, and with the added pressure of Fidel and Juliet visiting and watching, he may have tried to put the thing on upside down…He supposed he should be grateful they hadn’t also sent some sort of mitten instruction booklet. For weeks Camille had had to take the blasted things off him and put them onto Harry’s delicate hands using what seemed to him to be great force - he was just so scared of hurting his son’s little fingers by being rough that he never managed to get them on.

“Perhaps we should put it on her now?” Camille suggested, with a cheeky smile. Realising Richard was still failing to see the funny side, she instead put it away in a draw. She knew he would in a few weeks, he was just feeling a bit panicked now about being a Dad to a new born again.

“Your parents have been to Saint Marie, right? I didn’t imagine their visits here?” Camille asked Richard now.

“No, of course you didn’t, why?”

“Because your mother seems to have sent us several snow suits,” she said. “I mean, it is good when people give you clothes like this that are for 6 or 9 months instead of just new born stuff, but she is never going to need snow suits!”

“Ah, I think I know why, what month will it be when Baby 2 is 6 months old?” Camille shot him a look for his continued use of the baby 2 nickname, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Um, December?” He looked at her, waiting for the penny to drop. “ _OH_ , she wants us to come to the UK for Christmas.”

“You know she’d never straight out ask, too worried we’d say no.” Camille had told Richard his mother’s fear of rejection was something he had inherited – he could certainly sympathise with his Mum’s worries. “So this is just a subtle hint. And maybe we should, you know, we never have before. And I know you wouldn’t want to leave your Mother alone but I am sure she could come with us…”

Richard knew Camille probably would prefer to stay on Saint Marie for Christmas, but he gave her his best hopefully puppy dog look and it seemed to have an effect. With a small sigh, she said, “I will talk to her. It’s a good thing it is six months away - it’ll probably take a hell of a lot of planning.”

It seemed to Richard they were making very little progress sorting out the great piles of gifts (as well as hand-me-downs) they had received. It appeared they had everything they needed to raise their daughter to 18, but he knew from last time around they were sure to discover they were missing something vital – probably at 3 am in the morning. That reminded him, he must go buy some Calpol before Alex caught her first cold.  

Not every gift had been aimed at Alex though – many people had been concerned that Harry shouldn’t feel left out. His son had received many new toys, outfits and books – perhaps more than he had on his last birthday. Harry had already been incredibly excited by the arrival of his sister, finding out it also came with presents for him had led him to request that Richard and Camille start work on his next sibling immediately. Camille, thinking fast, had rattled off the excuse that there was a significant gap before she could have another baby. Unfamiliar with the specifics of the biology of human reproduction, Harry had huffed in annoyance but accepted it.

“Don’t worry, a few days of being woken by the baby crying in the middle of the night and he’ll soon wonder why he ever wanted a brother or sister in the first place,” Camille had told him when he had asked what they were going to do when the requests began anew in a few weeks.

Moving on to the next pile of baby stuff, he couldn’t help but smile as he put away some muslins. Alex had developed a touch of jaundice, nothing to worry about even though they both had terribly, and thus hadn’t been released from hospital as soon as they expected. He had been forced to go home without Camille, but had received a panicked text from her the next morning begging him to bring more Muslims. When he had replied to ask what the heck she was going on about (and in the back of his mind wondering if the post-partition hormone flux had induced a psychotic break) she had text back ‘Muslims – in the bottom draw in the bedroom’. He’d then realised autocorrect had stepped in to confuse matters.  

Richard was about to remind Camille of this incident when she let out a squeal of delight. He turned to find her examining something that had must been in the card his Mum had sent as well.  

“Oh my goodness, she has got me a voucher for a spa day at that place I went when I was pregnant with Harry and loved!” She cried enthusiastically.

“Oh I see how it is!” He grumbled good-naturedly. “You’ll leave me here with the children whilst you go off and get pampered!”

Camille’s hands went to her hips, causing an immediate jolt of fear. “Are you saying I don’t _deserve_ to be pampered? That all the extensive suffering through my pregnancy, the pain and trauma of childbirth – that doesn’t merit some kind of treat?”

Whoops. “No, of course you deserve the treat! Though, you know, you weren’t the only one to suffer…” He rapidly backpedalled under her glare - clearly the lack of sleep had removed all his common sense. “Not that anything I went through remotely compares to the pain you had to endure and you totally deserve the day out and take it whenever you like and I can stay here with the kids!” He said that all in rather a rush, so much so it seemed to take Camille a moment to process it.

“Actually, it says here I can take Alex with me, it’ll be a lovely bonding experience for us!” She enthused.

Richard was a little puzzled, “What are you going to do with a baby at a spa? Isn’t she a bit little to go in a Jacuzzi or have a massage?”

“Actually I think one of the books has several baby massages in it,” Camille informed him. “But of course she won’t be having any treatments. She’ll be asleep most of the time, I’ll just keep her with me in her carrier.”

“Maybe…” he began, but then hesitated, afraid she would get mad at him again. After carefully considering the phrasing, he decided it wasn’t _that_ much of a request. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind a day to bond with her as well. Not that I would want to go anywhere special or anything…”

“Oh Richard, that is so sweet,” Camille said this in the sort of tone she used with Harry when he did something cute. “But Alex is sort of reliant on meals from my chest and will be for a little while yet, which sort of limits your ability to be away from me for too long.”

“Oh right.” He’d forgotten that. Which was a bit embarrassing.

“Don’t worry, my love, she won’t end up loving me more than you just because of one day away!” Richard winced – Camille always read him so well, that was _exactly_ what he had been worrying out.

From the corner of the room, where Alex lay sleeping in her cot, an explosive sound of wind was heard. The sheer volume was impressive for such a small baby.

“Well,” Camille began, sweeping a hand in the direction of the baby. “If you would like a bonding experience with Alexandra now, I believe she may need changing.”

Richard didn’t think it was on _quite_ the same level as a spa day, but perhaps he should just make the best of opportunities he got…


End file.
